


Love Thy Regnant

by Traillbits



Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, Vampire: The Masquerade – Bloodlines (Video Game)
Genre: Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Cussing, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Partnership
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:27:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29976681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Traillbits/pseuds/Traillbits
Summary: Mercurio does his job and picks up his draught of vampire blood once a month, plain and simple. But not tonight, Prince LaCroix wants to ensure his ghoul's loyalty with more than just a stale vial's worth of his blood.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	Love Thy Regnant

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be a little more smutty/raunchy but things didn't go as planned. But eh maybe there will be a steamy sequel ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was that time of the month again, always the same night for the past forty-three years. 

This routine was just fine for Mercurio. He did the jobs the Prince gave him without question, job gets done, and every thirty days or so he got his sup of immortality without all the strings attached the undead carried. It was simple, comfortable, and an easy way to make a more than fair swindle of cash on top of living forever. 

This late at night, no one else was around the ‘We Stash and You Dash’ storage facility. Mercurio took the key out he had for unit number twelve as he gave the sliding door a heave upward. This lot was promptly bought and paid for every month in cash ever since the year 2003-just after Prince LaCroix had arisen from the Camarilla ranks to claim L.A. Mercurio held one of two keys for this storage unit, and he knew better than to lose it. 

To the untrained eye that lacked in vigilance it was a dusty unit filled with half decent furniture, most of which covered up by equally dust layered sheets. Nothing of particular interest to buy or steal even if the unit were cracked open by an outsider. 

It was just before two in the morning when Mercurio lifted the sheet that hid an old nightstand from view. It was as uninteresting and boring as the other pieces in the room. He lifted up on the false bottom of the drawer, expecting to reach in and pull out a vial-on the better nights he would find an entire medical blood bag stashed away earlier in the night. 

But reaching into the usual spot his ‘payment’ would be left he found nothing waiting for him in the vacant slot. 

What the hell? Opening his phone-there was a slight crack going down the screen from wear and tear-the date he confirmed was correct. It was never any longer than thirty days that the Prince would delay the small sampling of vampire blood. Today was the thirtieth night since Mercurio had gotten his fix. It would take a lot longer than a month for withdrawal to set in-not even imagining the much worse side effects that would inflict a ghoul as old as he was. But the boss was never more than thirty days giving him the blood, and there was nothing. He was due for his vial tonight, so why the hell wasn’t it here?

The ghoul rummaged through the various cloth covered furniture, chucking the old junk aside in a feeble hope that perhaps it was placed somewhere else or rolled out of the usual slot it was kept in by accident. But there was no trace of a bag or vial of vampiric vitae to be found in the storage unit.

“What the fuck?” Mercurio grunted, kicking the leg of an adjacent table in frustration. 

He knew he hadn’t screwed anything up on this job. His wheelings and dealings went as they usually did. Mercurio was by now no amateur at smuggling and didn’t leave a trace police could detect, had no run ins with Sabbat looking to drain him and/or steal his latest shipment. Everything he had stashed and loaded up had been delivered on time-he was quite lucky actually as he was almost worried the M37s weren’t going to make it past customs. 

So where the hell was the blood he was due?! Did someone catch on to the hiding spot and steal it before the ghoul got there? But that was impossible, only he and the boss held a key to the storage unit, no other copies made, and there were no signs of anyone breaking into the lot.

It’d been so many years and decades, could the Prince have stiffed him on purpose? Mercurio was not so stupid as to assume Prince LaCroix was harmless or inherently good just because he worked for the Camarilla. On the surface the Ventrue dressed in expensive suits, wearing a boyish face and holding a shorter stature than most grown men. But he was still a vampire, and one more than four times Mercurio’s age and hadn’t hesitated to kill a man-he’d seen this first hand, early on in their partnership.

Yet he couldn’t think of anything lately that would upset or anger the boss enough to deny him his fix. Not once had he ever, even when he’d had legitimate fuck ups on the job. 

So what the hell gives? 

While all these questions were abuzz in his head, the phone in his hand began to vibrate. Along the cracked screen Mercurio could very clearly read the caller ID: ‘S, LaCroix’

“Shit.” He frowned. Speak of the devil, this was all too coincidental. It had to be something to do with this, the ghoul fucked up somehow. He couldn’t get cut off, not at this late stage in the game. He'd heard too many horror stories of what happened to a ghoul's body once they'd been deprived of immortal vitae for too long. No fucking thank you.

He pressed the green answer button with his thumb, bringing the device to his ear. 

“Yeah boss?” Mercurio asked, attempting to mask the edge in his tone.

“Good evening, I imagine you're digging around looking for your allotted supply right now.” The Ventrue’s fine accent spoke through the phone. He sounded as if he were stating this as fact rather than asking. 

“Yeah, but there’s not a goddamn thing here. I’m not trying to pull your chain or nothin’ I honest to god showed up and the stash was empty. I think some asshole nabbed it before I got here, but it doesn’t look like anyone’s been around tonight but me.”

He heard LaCroix chuckle on the other end, as if this were all very amusing. “I believe you, and I can assure you no one broke in. You see I didn’t place anything in there in the first place. Which leads to just why I am phoning.”

Mercurio’s face fell. “But that last job went down without a hitch. What do I have to-“

“Now don't fret Mercurio, only do as I say and all shall be explained in due time." The Prince interrupted. “Now if you will let me finish, be at Venture Tower in the next half hour. I'll be expecting you in my office.” 

“I-?”

“That is all I will say on the matter. Thirty minutes.”

The line went dead as the ghoul gave a curse under his breath. Now he had to jump through a couple more hoops to get his dose. For fucks sake, To a fresh ghoul even after three draughts of vamp blood jitters of withdrawal would be setting in. But Mercurio had been playing this game for decades and the little twitches were easy to ignore, at least for now. But the foreboding that even if only by a few hours this monthly routine was being thrown out of whack was setting the ghoul on edge. 

Why did LaCroix need to see him in person? There were very few times they met face to face, most especially since he had staked claim over Los Angeles. He didn’t have as many encounters with the vampire as he had when LaCroix was at a much lower status in New York. Granted, he was not a bean counter by any means, but nothing so prestigious in the Camarilla hierarchy as a Prince like he was now. 

Was it weird that Mercurio actually missed those late nights in the Ventrue’s company? It was a stupid passing thought, knowing the boss only cared about his ghoul’s services and he only interested in his regnant’s blood. 

It was all a business arrangement. Loyalties all but written in blood, right?

\--

LaCroix was not facing Mercurio when he trudged into the lavish penthouse office. He was stiff as a board looking out the enormous windows. Venture Tower was high enough in elevation that the faint twinkle of stars against dark sky could be made out, despite the facility being smack dab in the heart of L.A. 

For once Mercurio did not see the hulking Sheriff stationary at the Prince’s side. Whether or not he was watching them from an undisclosed location, he couldn’t say for certain.  
He felt uneasy awkwardly standing on the lush carpet while the boss quietly window gazed. He wasn’t afraid of Sebastian LaCroix necessarily. The fact that he was a vampire had always been an obvious reality. Mercurio had grown numb to quite literally working with the dead, rowing with other Kindred under LaCroix’s orders for four decades and working against the Sabbat. He wasn’t about to call Prince LaCroix an angel, but neither was he an evil prick unlike those ravenous dogs out killing and draining whatever they liked. 

“Good to know you still adhere to instruction,” LaCroix’s voice cutting through the tension in the air. 

“Right yeah. Took the freeway to get down here.” Mercurio nodded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Can I ask what gives with this meet up? The last drop I made with your contact went fine, no extra questions asked.”

Those icy blue-grey eyes were unblinking as they stared out at the cityscape hundreds of feet below. “I’m well aware that the job was done as I asked, and it is appreciated. No, I called you here because I needed a little confirmation and assurance of my own.”

“What of specifically?”

It was only then that the Ventrue turned around. Mercurio noticed the large blade in his hands that he’d been twirling about. The letter opener shaped like the familiar Ankh symbol of the Camarilla. With the exception of its design there was nothing overly special about the blade. 

Though Mercurio was more interested that LaCroix-who had since removed the bulky charcoal overcoat-now had one of those grey sleeves rolled up. He hadn’t noticed until the blond had turned to face him and his eyes fell upon the branching blue veins against pale skin.

“I want to ensure transparency and know that I have unbridled loyalty in my ranks.” Sebastian spoke eloquently in that posh accent of his. “You have not failed in this, but I want a means of insurance that you continue to uphold your service in such a way.”

The knife end that was now pressed to the milky white flesh was slowly dragged down, allowing a clean slit down his arm. Mercurio couldn’t help but watch with morbid fascination as the dark scarlet began beading and trickling out of the wound. 

Yet all the while that he watched the blood bubble up to the surface, the vampire never took his eyes off the ghoul who merely stood mesmerized.

LaCroix was still a man of his word in giving his ghoul that monthly routine fix after all. This being much more generous than a meager vial, or even an entire bag filled. 

“Come,” He called, gesturing for Mercurio to step forward with his other hand. Sebastian did not even require the use of his Disciplines, he knew very well the mortal was starved for the blood and more than eager to obey in order to have a taste.

Mercurio was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time LaCroix had given him a drink straight from the tap. He clamored toward his regnant, despite the slight difference in height, the Prince held the high ground. 

Outstretching his arm, to which the vampiric blood was leaking down with a deep red trail along his arm, just traveling down his wrist now.

Mercurio couldn’t help but slump down to his knees when he took hold of the other man’s arm. It had seemed so fucked up initially when their partnership began in the 70s. To be running his tongue and mouth along another man’s arm-ignoring the fact that he was drinking someone’s blood-would sound like something a crazy person would be doing. 

Yet his tongue catching the escaping dribble of blood before his mouth latched on to the cut was the most intense high the man had ever felt. He still smoked as that was one fix with the exception of the blood that he couldn’t keep going without. But he hadn’t touched cocaine since ’79 once he’d become fully bound to the Ventrue, made a quick snort of coke feel like next to nothing.

LaCroix stood and watched his ghoul suck and lick up the vitae bleeding from his veins. The mortal on his knees, submitting to his regnant for that fresh sup. The Ventrue should be repulsed by the pleading desperation and the feel of the mortals now damp lips latched onto the open cut. 

But he felt no compulsion to interrupt, Sebastian was a businessman and payment for Mercurio’s service was due. Under normal circumstances, the ghoul’s dose would be left in the usual spot. But as the Prince had just undertaken the unfortunate headache of two Camarilla agents assigned to L.A defecting to join Rodriguez rabble lot, loyalties were to be tested and strengthened. 

He had no reason to assume any treasonous actions on Mercurio’s part, but neither had he for the two Kindred that would rather slum things up downtown with Nines brash Brujah cohorts. So a little reassurance of his old ally’s unwavering allegiance would allow the Ventrue to sleep more soundly.

And there was something just so endearing to watch the mortal hunched over, his brown hair dipping so as it concealed his closed eyes. LaCroix gaze in particular was transfixed on the way the ghoul’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and back down as he drank from his wrist. His lips perked up with a smirk playing at them as he heard the ghoul give a satisfied moan in between gulps. 

He was prepared to tug on Mercurio by the hair so as to pry him off, having had a more than sufficient fill now. But his pale fingers lingered on the other man’s head. Rather than yank on the thick brown strands, his hand remained there, very lightly caressing. 

But eventually he did pull-albeit a little more gently than he had originally planned to-and Mercurio with dilated eyes blinked. He’d felt as though he’d been sucked out of a dream, everything had stood still and felt fuzzy when he’d been drinking from LaCroix. The taste still upon his tongue and lips made him feel slightly numb.  
His eyes couldn’t help but look between the healing patch of skin-the cut had nearly closed completely-back up at the Ventrue Prince’s boyish face. 

For a split second, he felt a compulsion. Not just for blood, Mercurio felt this itch under his skin as he soaked up every detail about the blond’s features. That for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to pull himself up off the floor and place his hands on either side of the pale man’s face. For the ghoul to lock his eyes with ones that had seen lifetimes worth of events and memories much older than he himself was. The appeal as to whether LaCroix’s lips felt chapped or smooth against his. 

Better yet, if it was merely carnal want that he desired to reciprocate he was already on his knees before the Ventrue Prince. It wouldn’t take much to reach up and unclasp his belt, undo the blond’s grey slacks. Mercurio wasn’t one to fornicate intimately with the undead-much less another man. But for a moment he wondered what it’d be like to suck off more from a vampire than just their blood. 

It was only when he heard the soft clatter of shoes against the marble that he snapped back to reality. Sebastian had healed and licked away the remnants of blood along his arm and rolled his sleeve down. He still didn’t put the long overcoat back on, but he was now seated at his desk. 

The high and thoughts of giving his regnant a quickie had begun to vanish and Mercurio unsteadily picked himself up from where he knelt on the expensive rug. 

“That will be all I ask from you tonight.” LaCroix said, not even taking the time to look up at his ghoul, having already engrossed himself in the jumble of papers stacked on his desk. 

Mercurio frowned, he was stupid to think the things he had. He wasn’t a homophobe by any means. If men wanted to be with men and women with women that was their business, he wasn’t going to judge. But he considered himself to be pretty straight as an arrow, so what the hell was all that? Even if he were playing for the other team, this was Prince LaCroix he’d just considered going down on! It was one thing to sleep with a vampire, but another when the guy was his boss to boot.

Back on his feet, the ghoul gave an awkward clearing of his throat. 

“Right, well uh… thanks for that boss. Really appreciate it.” Mercurio stammered, wishing to look at anything else but the Ventrue sitting before him. His eyes drifted along to one of the oil paintings crafted by a man he’d never even heard of-let alone could pronounce the name of. 

Though Mercurio didn’t seem to notice it, the Prince’s eyes did finally look up. 

“The pleasure was all mine,” Sebastian smirked again, the tips of his elongated eyeteeth showing in his smile as he did so. 

“Uh huh,” The ghoul nodded as he seemed to be excused and turned to leave the immortal man’s office. 

“I’ll be sending you your next assignment tomorrow evening, but until then do enjoy yourself. Consider the remainder of the night off.” The Ventrue called. 

“Cool, will do.” 

LaCroix was left alone in his office, and Mercurio was swearing at himself waiting on an elevator.


End file.
